Twilight: Kaleidoscope
by Joanna Karen Rain
Summary: Reincarnated as the opposite to a Singer's role. It brings about the chance to start anew whereas the self-preservation to protect the people around you continues to grow and perhaps finding the true meaning to genuinely love along the way. [Self-insert; OC-centric]


**Book 1. Twilight: Kaleidoscope **

**Author's Notes:** This has been a recent obsession, to read the Twilight series at first, only to have the strong urge to write a fan fiction story about it at the next. I hope everyone enjoy reading the preface nonetheless.

**Disclaimer:** The Twilight written and film series are not mine. It belongs to Stephenie Meyer.

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><p><strong>Preface. Death Resonance<strong>

_Since the day of my birth, my death began its walk. It is walking towards me, without hurrying. ~ Jean Cocteau_

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><p>I remember the event that had occurred – which cost me my life – playing before my very eyes in a slow motion, almost mocking me in its clarity.<p>

I had just stepped outside the store after finishing my shift on the previous night, momentarily glancing around the silent sidewalk before moving toward the direction of my second part-time job for the day, neither intending to be side-tracked nor wanting to arrive late.

I vividly recall that the weather had been great at the time; the early morning breeze was exceptionally refreshing as its brushes against my warm skin, the residents were starting to move about and preparing to open their respective establishment in town. I tilted my head in greeting and waved at Mrs Reid as she flipped the open sign of her bakery shop, even taking the chance to smile genuinely at me. The gesture was quite infectious in a sense and I couldn't help but to reciprocate it in kind.

Despite the cordial act, an unrest dilemma remained to take root deep within me. The disastrous incident that has taken place the other night at home plagued my mind, purposefully taunting me and keeping me awake, nevertheless I was swift in shaking them away. Like I always told myself, it's best to cope and move on from any conflict that I have had to face in life rather than linger around them for far too long of a time.

I halted in my steps as I finally reached the crossroad.

The traffic lights turned from yellow to green, indicating for the vehicles to move freely about on the street whilst the pedestrian remained firm at the other side of the sidewalk.

The scene made an abrupt gyrate where everything seems to move in an alarmingly slower pace, even as the surrounding area became somewhat static-y.

It was almost surreal.

I blink – the scene returned to normal – and I couldn't help but to ease my way forward as the traffic lights turned red, seemingly in an autopilot mode. The incredulity from the former event appeared to be forgotten and long disappeared. For a brief yet strange moment, a peculiar scent of the sea penetrates my nose and my mind idly wanders whether the breeze brought it along in its flow.

Regardless, an urgent sensation of anxiousness quickly welled-up within me.

It easily overwhelmed the rest of my emotions as if to forewarn a dangerous omen up ahead. Ironically enough, that was when it happened, every single detail of the memory skidded to an unbearably down-tempo. I stopped in my tracks as the sound of several objects fallen onto the road immediately caught my previously wayward attention. I instinctively whirled around to inspect the noises. My eyes widened a fraction at the sight of little Mary Stewart running back to the middle of the road.

I hardly took notice that she seemed hell-bent in picking up her brand new crayons which scattered precariously across the ground.

The tiny girl even went as far as to completely ignore her mother screaming for her to return right that instance. Then, Fate decided to intervene and have a little fun. A beautiful silver cruiser could be seen from afar, heading straight toward the smaller child, vehicle clearly speeding out of control. Mrs Stewart proceeded to scream even more in petrified terror. All the while, everyone else in the area seemed to be frozen-stricken in their respective stances, unable to move to help in time.

At that moment, a buzzing noise rang incessantly and annoyingly loud in my ears, muting every other noise around me.

Until at one point, the only other sound that I managed to pinpoint was the erratic heartbeats in my chest. My finger twitched. Faster than anyone could blink, my feet move on its own accord. The bystanders held their respective breathe as they saw me ran to the tiny girl's aid.

Frankly speaking, I had no idea why I did what I did. The closest assumption to the truth that anyone could've had in mind was it to be a spur of the moment action, nothing more. After all, in my personal viewpoint, it certainly wasn't an act of heroism either.

I distinctly remember picking Mary up by the scruff of her neck – ignoring the small child surprise yelp – flinging her at the direction of Mr Lanceworth at the other side of the street, unsuspecting but forgiving enough to not hold any future grudges against the assailant of his person.

Of course, after confirming Mary's safety, I have been prepared to return to the sidewalk behind me, attempting to use my infamous lightning fast reflexes in doing so.

Well, up until an overwhelming sense of fatigue promptly invaded my very consciousness at the last minute, inadvertently rendering me helpless. I faltered in my steps. In the back of my mind, I had been vaguely aware on how I worked non-stop for the past week alone, the inclusion being the tiring late night shift yesterday.

On top of that, I barely gained enough sleep as it is, more specifically after the heated argument of the century in my household due to the incident a couple of weeks ago.

My breath unconsciously hitched. Black spots obscuring my vision, creating a haze-like sight – every part of my limb seemingly weigh heavier as the second passed. Even the once irritating, highly disconcerted noises in the surrounding area turned mute through my ears.

Not a moment sooner, the excruciating pain arrived without a single tell-tale of warning. The cruiser had hit me, point blank.

There was a minute of silence. Then chaos descended. The sound practically returned with a vengeance, inducing and pushing a continuous throb of headache at the forefront of my seemingly cracked cranium – one after the other. People were screaming and shouting at every turn, panic reined the very atmosphere, and an incoming storm started to brew as to replace the once great weather. I grimace in palpable pain – unaware of the darkening clouds gathering at the previously clear blue sky – as I motionlessly lie on my back. Nevertheless, despite the utter upheaval that has taken place around me, I managed to notice the pooling wetness underneath my person.

I idly wandered if it had been made and caused purely out of sweat, or perhaps, another thing altogether.

Subsequently, my question answered its own. The conveniently familiar scent of copper tainted the very air, causing me to inwardly recoil at the lingering taste it brought upon my tongue. I resisted the urge to vomit. As my consciousness drift in and out, it would seem that the realization in which I am nearing my end didn't entirely bother me at the very least. Even the common opinion about seeing the on-going of your current life flashes before your very eyes when death comes along didn't exactly hold true to its words. I suppose it is merely another rumour that flies around without any basic concrete evidence to back them right up.

I suppressed the need to chuckle aloud, only to wince at the jolted pain caused by the slight motion on my part.

Because I seemed to be reminded of the people that I have managed to come across in this short of mine thus far – those that I cherished along with those that I abhorred. Of course, those selected few were brief moments of encounters, so to speak. Unsurprisingly enough, only two particular individuals that manage to appear as the main focus at the forefront of my mind – Jerome being one of them.

As far as I could remember, the guy was vacationing in Shanghai and following his parents' urgent demand for a business trip there. He wouldn't be making an appearance anytime soon too, only returning to Clintonville next month.

Unfortunately, our time together had been quite short once I reminisced about it.

If I actually gained the chance to meet him again – one more time – I'd definitely apologize for leaving him behind at this early of a young age. Not to mention the fact that I didn't even get to say goodbye to him, knowing exceptionally well that he hated exchanging those without any plausible reason to.

More specifically toward the people whom he has come to adore and love – "I don't want it to be the last thing I or the other person actually uttered," He once mentioned, tone melancholic. I couldn't exactly argue with him about that.

And out-of-the-blue, a tear escaped me.

Even my choked sob seemed more like a gurgle than anything.

I gritted my teeth as an unceremonious cold breeze seeped through the opened wound of my torso, causing me to whimper pathetically in response.

I heard the slight echo of an ambulance's siren, barely cutting through my fading consciousness.

Not a moment sooner, I felt as if everything around me gradually turned dim. Pure lethargic filled me and I was ready to sleep the tiredness away including the agonizing pain coursing through my limp form, vaguely aware of an approaching silhouette that instantly scooped me into its awaiting embrace.

Then, a particular thought flitted across my mind, urging me to voice it aloud. After all, I realized that it might actually be my final parting words to the world. Despite valiantly hoping to profess it to the right person instead, I reluctantly concede to the fact that I have no more time left.

"Sorry… for… bad daughter… love you… m—um."

It had been in coughing bits and pieces, I know. But, nevertheless, it'll do.

Because,

As my heart proceed to beat one last time before permanently skidded to a lasting halt,

As the strangely warm yet clear droplets of liquid relentlessly fallen onto my pale-white face – one after another,

As my spiritual form is separated from its earth-bound vessel,

As I am ready to be sent to the Hereafter,

A daughter to mother's love,

Is forever etched upon my heart and soul,

It is… **never-ending**.

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><p><strong>Terence Alexandra Hamilton <strong>

**Died April 2****nd****, 2014 **

**Beloved Daughter and Lover **

**Never Be Forgotten and Always Be Remembered **

**Rest In Peace, My Dear Child **

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><p><strong>Author's Notes:<strong> I was thinking to post this on December 31st, 2014. But, I've been a tiny bit sidetracked due to my college exams. Please review after you finished reading this. I am looking forward on your thoughts about my first fan fiction story on Twilight.

On another note, the update for the first chapter will be posted in the next three months or so. I need to take a vacation after a long-term studying non-stop. Thank you for understanding. See you later!


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